This Is Their Story
by Yuul
Summary: Prison Break: Nicole Jones is a person of interest in the Fox River 8 investigation, but just as Alex steps into her life, he realises that The Company have their claws deep in all aspects of this conspiracy. Who is Nicole Jones really? What is her connection? Will she be able to help Alex save his family, or will she just make it all that much more complicated?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, I have just binged watched Prison Break this weekend, for like the third time. Every time I do, I want to put my ideas on paper and get them out of my brain - but I never do. Until now.**

 **I hope you enjoy it as much as I will enjoy bringing this story to life.**

 **[M} This chapter is noted as M because it depicts an attempted suicide. Skip the fourth paragraph if you do not want to read it.**

* * *

The bathroom was all set up. It was truly beautiful. The bath was running, bubbling up some scented concoction she'd bought from the market that morning. There were candles lining the tub and the small ledge that traced the room. Rose petals were scattered along the floor from her bedroom door all the way through to the ensuite meeting the edge of the bath, where a heart shape pattern was made with the remaining petals. She contemplated setting up the music too - but thought that was a bit too much, and she wouldn't have been able to decide which music best suited the special occasion.

She released her hair from the tight pony tail she'd made that morning, relishing in the feeling of the dark waterfall of tension flowing down her back. She instantly felt relaxed. It had been a long day, and she was almost anxious to know that it would soon end. A smile tugged at her plump lips, still masked with the dark lip stick she had worn to work. Her teeth found her bottom lip almost too delicious as she tugged at it with such force it began to bleed under the pressure. A moan escaped her mouth as she ran her tongue along the broken skin on her lip, enjoying the tang from the iron in the blood as it tantalised her taste buds.

Alas, she looked around the room and spun around inside the heart shape she'd made, dropping her night gown to reveal her naked body. She bent over slightly to turn off the tap, with her left hand, while dipping the finger tips of her right into the water. Almost scorching - a perfectly run bath. In under a minute she could be found body submerged in the water, her neck and head the only part of her body that remained above the bubbles. And there she lay for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of the water also burning her skin.

It was at that moment she sighed, realising the perfect music she could have put on for the occasion - but laziness took over and she decided that silence was just as fitting. She raised her right hand from under the water to reveal the small razor blade that she had picked up from the drug store that afternoon. Humming her chosen tune, she slowly embedded the blade into her left arm, staring and the wrist, and pushed with all her might, fighting the natural reflex to stop. Once she reached her elbow, she switched hands and mirrored the cut on her right arm, struggling more so now from the pain and her lack of ambidextrous abilities. But against all odds, she completed her task, the blade finally dropping from her shaking hand into the water, slowly turning pink from the pouring blood as she submerged her arms below the scorching water and closed her eyes, waiting for the eternal rest to take her.

* * *

He was stood staring out of the window of Field Office, glancing out into the darkness his eyes fixated on the twinkling lights of the city that he could see on the horizon. That evening, Alexander Mahone had donned one of his many impeccable black suits, creased slightly under the pressure of his hands as they rested on his hips, just thinking. It was all that he could do right now. Think. And Scofield was proving to be an interesting candidate to occupy his mind.

Almost two days had passed since the inmates had escaped from Fox River, and he had already lost them once. He felt as if he'd had had Scofield in his grasp but he just slipped through his fingertips. He wouldn't too far off saying that he kind of admired the man, who seemed to have the plan - but not enough to admit defeat. Mahone knew that the answer was in those tattoos. They would tell him everything about where Michael and the others are going, and he would be there waiting for them when they get there.

"E. Chance Woods" He mused to himself, a small, humourless laugh slipping out after his words. He pinched his nose and let out a sign as he tried to shake off the headache that was threatening to take over. He closed his eyes as he released the pressure he was placing on his nose and opted for the only other option he had - the secrets held within the body of his favourite pen. He quickly unscrewed the fountain pen, revealing his release. Instant gratification came from feeling the little blue pill on his tongue, and just In time too.

"You've got to see this" Lang's voice was almost too happy for Mahone to accept, peering over his glasses towards the woman that stood giddily at the door of his office. He raised an eyebrow at her, too immersed in his own thoughts and theories to really comprehend the situation, he allowed her to come into his office anyway, thinking he could give his brain a break for a moment to listen to what she had to say.

"I'm waiting" He finally spoke, pulling his glasses off his nose and throwing them atop the stack of files he'd been reviewing just moments before. Despite his words, she seemed almost reluctant to enter the office. He burrowed his brow and impatiently motioned her in. He was willing to give it a quick look, but her hesitation was eating precious time "come on come on" He spoke impatiently, leaning against the window sill, his hand outstretched to receive the file.

Lang jumped in and handed the file over to her supervisor with a little too much enthusiasm "Our intelligence guys just uncovered this piece of information" She began to explain, as he opened up the file to reveal a single piece of paper "We think it's an interesting lead and…" She kept talking, but he wasn't paying much attention to her as he was engrossed in reading the information she had provided. "It was previously unknown, no link was ever establishes before - we don't know how viable it is but -"

"This" He began, closing the file. "This Is the very reason I hired you Lang" He jumped up grabbing his coat and left the office without another word, leaving a very satisfied Leticia Lang alone in his office, feeling very proud of herself.

* * *

"5551 North Linder Ave" He found himself muttering for the umpteenth time as he drove around Chicago. He was growing increasingly accustomed to driving around and finding all sorts of short cuts to get to his desired destination in the nick of time. The residence of the individual depicted on that one sheet of paper was almost imprinted on his memory. As he drove around the Jefferson park area, he wasn't surprised to see that he wasn't all that far from Scofield's place of residence. He smiled briefly as he pulled up at his destination, removing his sun glasses and jumping out the car, checking his gun was by his side. He could never be too careful.

He jumped the stairs to the apartment two by two and made his way to the door, the numbers 5551 in silver, gleaming as if they had just been polished. It wasn't the only thing he noticed. The door was left ajar. He immediately reached for his side arm, leaning against the wall, pushing the door open carefully, before craning his neck to look inside.

"Miss Jones?" He called out, looking straight ahead into the darkness. He could see nothing, hear nothing. Alex stepped around the threshold and entered the residence, pushing the door fully open, shedding the small amount of light that was shining from the wall lamp outside into the residence. As his feet made contact with the inside of the apartment, he finally noticed the a couple of rose petals on the floor. He raised a curious eyebrow and continued into the apartment, gun raised in front of him, listening.

"Nicole Jones?" He called again, making his way into the room that met the end of the corridor. He stopped for a moment, trying to listen out for any signs of movement, but he heard nothing. He already feared the worst. It wasn't because he was simply a cynic - his most recent experiences plagued his everyday thoughts. "FBI!" He added, moving his hand up the wall until he found the light switch. Sure, he knew that changing anything would potentially compromise the forensic investigation, but he didn't care about that - he had to get things done now.

Alex let his eyes adjust to the light and as he did, his eyes focused on the pristine living room that belonged to his person of interest. A large L shaped sofa could be found in the centre of the large, open plan room that was akin to something one would find in a property brochure. He didn't release his firearm as he stepped around the furniture, moving towards the centre of the room. He stopped beside a coffee table, where a set of magazines were stacked perfectly, all with that days date. _Curious,_ he thought as he took a moment to fully take in his surroundings.

Before him was a kitchen that seemed to never have been used. Not a spec of dust to dirt to be seen - no dirty dishes, or clean ones on the draining board. To his left were the doors to the balcony, the glass so clean he had to look twice to ensure that the doors were not simply frames that lead to the outside world. And to his right, two doors. He stepped carefully towards the door furthest away from him, listening closely before he opened the door quickly, pointing his gun into the room. He flicked the switch to reveal an office, as pristine as the living room, with a small sofa in the corner.

"So strange" He muttered. There was nothing out of place, nothing at all, he thought, as he stepped back out of the office and turned to the only other shut door in the apartment. Nothing accept the rose petals, which curiously appeared in abundance as he opened the door to what he could only deduce was the bedroom. It was here that the darkness was already broken by the faint rays of light dancing behind the closed door at the far side of the large bedroom, a sight he would soon realise belonged to the candles that were set up around the room.

"Nicole? It's the FBI, I'm just hear to ask you some questions" He spoke, still on edge, moving towards the ensuite on the other side of the bedroom. Nobody answered and his earlier suspicions arose once more. "Nicole?" He spoke once more, stepping over the blood red rose petals that guided him to the doorway. Slowly, he turned the handle on the door and pushed the door open, the dimming light of the candles flooding into the bedroom.

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw.

"Jesus" Alex's eyes widened at the gruesome sight, re-sheathing his weapon swiftly before diving both arms into the bath, pulling the lifeless body of the woman out of the water and into his body. He fell back under the dead weight, holding the woman tight in his lap as he checked her pulse. It was dull but still existent - just. He reached for his cell and called an ambulance.

"You will not die" He ordered, reached behind him to grab the night robe that was on the floor, ripping it in two with his teeth and wrapping it tightly around her wounds. "You will not die!" He repeated, pulling his jacked off, and enveloping her body to keep her warm. "You will not die!"

* * *

The management of patients who have made suicide attempts is a responsibility that frequently falls to the primary care physician. For this reason, it is important that the physician have a clear strategy for dealing with the suicidal patient, especially when they are first admitted to hospital. In the acute situation, the first priority is to stabilise the patient and ensure his or her medical safety. Once this is accomplished, history and circumstances of the attempt can be assessed, along with likelihood of recurrence of the attempt.

"Are you family?" The doctor asked for the third time, trying to assess the situation with impatience in his voice, watching the man before him lace his fingers and rest them behind his neck. He was doubled over himself, sat in one of the chairs in the waiting room, looking down at the floor.

"No" Alex finally replied, without looking up at the doctor "As I said before, I'm FBI" His voice was tired and irritated. He didn't have time to be dabbling in the protocols of any physician right now - nor did he really have time to waste on the suicide victim in surgery. "I went to question Miss Jones and found her - " He blinked quickly to stop the images of the discovery settling in his mind once again. He was growing nervous and restless. He needed his pills - but he'd stupidly left his jacket on the body of the woman as they carted her from the ambulance into A&E.

"Well, from what I tell, it's lucky you were there. A couple of minutes later and she wouldn't have been so lucky" The doctor added, noting something down on the file he had in his hands "She'll be out of surgery soon, then on 24 hour watch. Would you like me to call you a cab?" he spoke, closing the file with a smile on his young face.

Alex looked up at the doctor and cocked his eyebrow at his chipper tone. "No thanks" He spoke, ironically, a small, faux smile glazing over his lips. "I'll be just fine"

"Good. Because you know - only family can be here when she comes out" Alex opened his mouth to argue, to try and pull rank, to ask whether the doctor wanted to be arrested for potentially getting in the way of a federal investigation, but the withdrawal was beginning to take hold and he couldn't bring himself to enter the argument.

"Fine" He spat, the sweat beginning to trickle down his temples "I need m-m- my jacket" He insisted, standing up, placing his hands firmly on his hips, revealing the blood stains on his tailor fitted white shirt.

The doctor looked him over, amusement dancing behind his eyes. "Of course sir." He spoke politely, in a tone that both confused and put Mahone on edge, especially when it was accompanied by some sort of knowing look. He did not have much time to dwell on it, before his cell rang in his back pocket.

"Mahone" He spoke, racking his free hand through his hair. It was Lang - of course. She was a good agent, but she seemed to always call when he least had the energy to deal with anything that she had to say. Take away the fact he was more concerned with the blue pill than anything else at the moment, it was almost 10 pm.

"Where are you?" She asked, bluntly.

"Hospital" He responded, too tired to lie.

"Oh god, are you ok? Do you need- "

"I'm fine" He breathed "Jones decided to play doctor with a razor blade" He buried his face in his free hand now "What you got for me?" He asked, hoping she'd cut to the chase quick.

"It's LJs hearing tomorrow afternoon" He stopped rubbing his face and stood dead still.

"Are you sure about this?" His mind was racing. This might be their opening.

"As sure as sure can be, sir" She spoke.

"I want any phone calls to that boy recorded and sent to me as it bloody happens" It took all his will power to pull himself together and not raise his voice. Shouting in the waiting room was not going to help. "And schedule a meeting with him before the hearing. I wanna get to him before anyone else does"

"Yes sir. Anything else?"

Alex decided that he'd wait for his jacket sat down, fearing his legs wouldn't take his weight much longer. He glanced around towards where he'd seen the doctor leave, towards the surgery area. It was then he caught a glimpse of the doctor, engaging animatedly in conversation with a dark haired man, sun glasses covering his eyes. Alex stood once more, to get a better look at him, his sharp suit out of place in the emergency room of a hospital.

"Sir?" Lang pushed.

"Yeah." He replied shortly, his eyes not ripping away from the suited man. "Cover for me tomorrow morning"

"Sir, what - ?" He hung up, and pocket the cell phone, watching the two men with beady eyes.

It's hadn't been too long ago that he had been approached by a man that looked very similar to the suited gentleman. It was then that he'd been assigned to the Fox River 8 case and given his specific set of instructions. It wouldn't be too far fetched to believe that this gentleman was on their payroll - but as he began to walk towards the door, the suited man turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway. When he could no longer see the suited man, his eyes turned to the doctor, looking visibly shaken. He took a couple of deep breaths before looking up, seeing Mahone through the glass in the doors and rushing towards him.

"I apologise" He spoke quickly, the doors swinging behind him. He extended the previously requested jacket towards him

"How long until she is out of surgery?" Mahone asked, donning the jacket, surreptitiously checking his pocket for his pen. It was there. He felt his body relax knowing he was just moments away from getting his fix.

"She'll be in recovery within the hour, but as I said, only family - "

"She's a person of interest in a Federal investigation" he spoke, finally finding his attitude, pulling at the front of his jacket He sniffed and wiped his nose, stepping towards the doctor, placing a hand on his shoulder. With a small squeeze her shot a knowing smile to the man. "So, I will be seeing you in a couple of hours then"

He left the doctor in the waiting room, making his way directly outside the hospital and to a blind spot at the end of the building, pulling out the pen and calming his nerves with the feeling of that pill entering his system. There was something wrong with this entire situation, and he felt a slight pang of guilt for leaving the woman alone in the hospital while he felt like the claws of the conspiracy were closing in on her - but he needed rest.

Alex took a moment to gain his composure. He leant against the hospital building, his hands on his knees as he hoped the urge to empty the contents of his stomach would pass. Breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, Alex felt the sedative take effect and he finally felt like himself again.

He stood up tall and fumbled in his pockets to find his sunglasses, which he put on. As he began to walk towards the car park, Alex reached for his cell and dialled a number he only had the courage to call when he was most desperate for a boost of motivation to continue. He only hoped that she would pick up.

The site of the suited man brought it all home, he felt slight fear and curiosity as to why a member of The Company would be coercing with the doctor. He knew that they would be keeping tabs on him, but not in every aspect of the investigation, surely. He was doing exactly as they had asked. He'd only been on the case for less than 48 hours. Were they already unhappy with his results. What was happening?

"Pam?" His felt tingles all through his body as his train of thought came to a halt "It's so good to hear your voice" He spoke, flagging down a cab, but the tingles soon stopped, as he realised he was talking to the voicemail recording his ex-wife had recorded. Defeated, he snapped the cell shut and jumped in the back of the cab. Destination: home. Status: Alone, drowning in his own thoughts.

* * *

"I can't believe she's dead" Lincoln sat at the edge of the hideout, his fists formed at his side. It was not only terrible to know that the only woman he had truly loved was dead, or that she had died specifically for him, but to hear her speak with such hope, only to have it literally shot away was almost too much to bear.

What was it she had said? Steadman was alive? What did that mean? If he was alive, then who was in the car? Why would they set him up for a false death? What was going on?

Lincoln brought his fists up about a foot off the ground, then hit down will all of his might. The whole situation just didn't make sense. What did he have to do with all of this? Why him? And more importantly, how was he going to get the ones his loved out of this mess.

"We have a problem" Michael appeared stood next to him. He'd left a few hours ago to 'run some errands' and Lincoln hadn't even bothered asking where he was going - He trusted Michael was doing what was necessary to get them to safety, and had defended that fact when the others had jumped up in arms about the fact that he was off on another secret mission without filling them in. He'd done them no wrong up until now, and he was sure he wouldn't be doing anything reckless to jeopardise the plan - they'd come too far, and Lincoln wondered whether they'd be able to ditch those untrustworthy humans soon.

"Another one?" Lincoln spoke calmly, wiping a lone tear from his cheek before looking up to his younger brother. There were no words to describe how proud he really was on him and how grateful he was for everything he'd done for him "Abruzzi not playing nice?" He tried to hold on to some sort of humour, even though he was so mentally exhausted. Michael did not make any attempt to recognise the effort, stood staring out into nothing with that look on his face. "What is it?"

"It's Nicole" He revealed, finally turning towards him.

"What?" Lincoln's features filled to the brim with genuine surprise and worry. It had been a long time since he had heard her name, despite thinking about her all the time. Was she ok? Did they get to her too?

"I think something has happened to her" Michaels voice went extremely quiet and his eyes dropped to the floor.

"How can you know that?" Lincoln grabbed his brother by the shoulders "Do _they_ have her _?_ Is she even alive?"

"I don't know." Michaels voice was barely above a whisper. "She didn't check in like we planned - and I think…. I think…." There was tears in his eyes, and Lincoln's heart sank into his stomach.

Michael had been right. That really was a problem.

* * *

The sound of steady beeping was the only thing breaking the silence in the newly occupied recovery room on the second floor of the hospital. The brunette led immobile on the hospital bed, the view of her face obscured by tubes that ensured her recovery. She was not alone in the room, for another stood watching her, his breathing atune with the rhythm of the machines that were monitoring her vital signs.

It had been at least a year since Paul Kellerman last spoke with the woman before him, but he had to admit, she hadn't changed at all. Just as beautiful, and obviously just as reckless.

"Oh Nikki, Nikki, Nikki" The suited man spoke, moving a stray lock of her hair out of her face "It's not your time" He continued to speak, as if she could engage in conversation, taking a seat next to her. He pocketed his glasses, and took her hand in his own "We decide that, not you." He pat the top of her hand and pulled up the sleeve of her hospital gown to see the gauze that lined where he assumed she'd taken the blade to her skin.

"You really are too beautiful to bare scars" He ran his fingertips over the bandage "But I guess thats your own fault for being so stupid!" His voice was bitter now. He released her hand from his grip and leant back into the chair, eyes closed with his hands rubbing the frustration out of his face. When he cell rang, he didn't even have to look at the caller ID before answering.

"She's fine" He spoke, before the caller could say a thing.

"Good - make sure she stays that way"

"Will do" He spoke, a sense of pride welling up inside him

"Check on Tancredi, while you're there too"

"Yes ma'am"

"Oh and Paul, Veronica Donovan is dead"

Paul felt the irony in the comment cut deep in his heart. "That's a relief"

"Yes. Now, can I trust you to deal with this?" Her question was laced with hidden meanings he understood very well.

"Yes ma'am" His pride slightly more damaged than moments before.

"Good. Don't let me down"

The line went dead and a pit opened in Kellerman's stomach. He could not afford to let another one of these women better him and another pick up the pieces. He wouldn't let that happen.

"Now Nikki" He plastered a smile on his face as he arose from the chair and looked down as the unconscious woman "No more dates with razor blades, ok?" He leant over to whisper in her ear "You need to see this to the end and watch them burn, got it?" His smile was still settled on his lips as he donned his sun glasses once more, tugged at the end of his suit and made his way out of her room, to begin his next assignment. Get close to Tancredi and find Scofield.

He couldn't afford to fail - not again.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I Would like to thank Tevios115 for adding this story to your favourites and Juneselene for both the fav and follow. And a special thank-you to NoUsernamesAreAvailable . There really are no words to describe how reading your review made me feel. Thank-you for taking the time to write it - it means a lot to me.**

 **Please enjoy this little chapter, the calm before the proverbial storm. From the next chapter onwards - there's some real heartache to be had :( (:P)**

 **Yuul x**

* * *

Alex Mahone did not sleep at all that night, not that he had expected to. He wasn't used to the creature comforts of a 9-5 work life that came with a complimentary healthy sleep cycle. No. Alex Mahone was lucky if he got 40 winks in a 72 hour period.

He currently lay, half naked atop his bed, the images of the woman he'd saved that night still plaguing his mind. It was reminiscent of when he watched Shales' die in his dreams over and over and over and… His finger tips dragged down from his forehead all the way down in chin until he wrapped his hands tight around his neck, mimicking the suffocating feeling his life was having on him right now. Sometimes he wished that he could just have the guts to grab the gun he'd thrown on his bedside table and place it in his bloody mouth and end it all. But he was too much of a coward.

His fingers slowly unlaced themselves and found themselves spread apart as Alex stretched his arms out by his sides, mimicking the stance children making snow angels took. He closed his eyes as he remembered the last Christmas he had spent with his own kid, making snow angels in the back garden. And with all of his happy thoughts, this memory was dragged into the abyss and ripped to pieces by his skeletons. His backyard held darker secrets than happy memories could handle.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" He groaned, deciding that laying on the bed wasn't going to make his demons go away. He turned onto his side and pushed himself up - opting for a shower and a change of clothes. After that, he'd visit the hospital to check on Miss Jones before heading to the courthouse to meet LJ Burrows and execute his plan to get him to talk. Sounded like a plan. Kids were often easier to coerce than adults.

So, he stripped and stepped in the shower, letting the blood and dirt he'd accumulated throughout the day fall off his body. He couldn't exactly turn up to the hospital looking like he should be admitted. He found his thought a little funny and smiled, turning the hot water higher. As he let the water cover his body, he thought about exactly how he'd gotten himself into that situation.

" _You've got to see this" - "It was previously unknown" "we don't know how viable it is but -"_

Lang had no idea what she had uncovered, and its weight was worth more than gold seeing as Kellerman had gotten off his high horse and made the trip down to the hospital. The fact he hadn't been waiting outside to force policy down Alex's throat, made him suspect that it was more to do with the girl than anything, and it probably wasn't to bring her flowers.

Although he and Kellerman had exchanged but a few words in the short space of time they had known each other, Kellermans tone and threats were the only thing keeping Alex in line with this madness. It wasn't enough that Kellerman had threatened to expose the secrets that lay below his perfectly kept lawn, but he had thrown in the name of his son and ex-wife, saying it was ' _adequate incentive'_ or a ' _motivational trigger'_ to get Mahone to cooperate and complete his mission. Alex was truly afraid that if he failed, his family would die.

With that thought, his breathing sped up. What if that was the fate waiting for the girl he'd saved yesterday? He'd just left her there, probably to the devices of The Company - would she even be alive when he got there? _She better be_ he mused. That girl potentially had vital information that he needed to catch Scofield before he made his next move. And the quicker he did that, the quicker he could walk away with his family intact.

He pushed back his sodden hair and let the water hit his face with pull force. In that moment, surrounded by the steam from the shower, he wondered what it would feel like to drown. To begin with, sure, it would feel awful at first, but then it would be almost peaceful right? Experiencing those last moments in the water, in the nice warm…

"Maybe Miss Jones has the right idea" He shivered, shutting the water off. He stepped out of the shower, leaving a trail of water drops as he scuffed his feet through to the bedroom, where he grabbed his dirty clothes and threw them into the trash can in the corner of his bedroom. He had better things to do than to be washing clothes right now - besides, he had a dozen more.

As promised, Mahone made his way to the hospital to pay an early morning visit to the young woman. He wanted to get an update from the doctor to know when he would be able to question her but, to his surprise, the doctor was no-where to be seen. When he queried at the front desk, the receptionist was adamant that no man that fit the description he gave of the doctor worked there - this alone confirmed his suspicions. He felt his nerves tingle as he cased his surroundings, suddenly feeling like he was the prey instead of the hunter.

"And A Miss Jones? Do you have any record of her?" He had asked, impatiently clicking at his tongue. Would she be another individual they didn't have any record of? Had the company swept in a dealt with that in the only way that he knew they worked? He pulled his glasses down his nose and began to impatiently tap them on the countertop as the receptionist tapped away on the keyboard. She didn't seem to get distracted at all by his impatient lack of rhythm.

"Are you family?" She asked, her tone overly cheerful for any hour before sunrise.

"No, I'm not" He huffed, pocketing his glasses and scratching his chin nervously. "I brought her in -" He pulled out his badge and showed it to her, hoping the blonde would get to the point "and I just want to check she's ok" A smile flickered onto his face, as he awaited an answer the his original question "So, which room is she in?" He reminded her, just in case her air head had not received the original request.

"Yes, yes - ok" She obviously interpreted his repetition as impatience, which was a correct interpretation, and with a few more clicks, she was writing down a room number on a post-it-note for him, flashing a smile his way as she did so. "Here you go sir"

"Thanks" He breathed, grabbing the note and making his way to the room written of the paper. It was a private room, a fact that both surprised and slightly confused Alex. Her insurance details wouldn't have gone through quick enough to ensure this treatment. He shook it off, knowing that it wasn't important. What was important was finding out whether she was even in the room, and was she even alive. He couldn't answer the first, straight away as the blinds were drawn shut, so all he could do, was see for himself. Alex couldn't help but look over his shoulder before opening the door to the secluded room, his heart beating uncontrollably. But it seemed to be unwarranted as the door opened and no men flew out from behind the scenes. No guns blazing. Nothing. His nerves were getting the best of him at the strangest of times, he thought to himself, letting out a smile breath of laughter as he pushed the door open fully, revealing the patient within.

He stepped in and let the door close with a click behind him, and he leant there for a moment, simply looking at the figure lay, motionless. He wasn't sure what he had expected. After such trauma, she wasn't going to be up and about and ready for questioning so soon, but a small, nagging part of him had hoped that was the case. With each passing moment, it felt like the knife at his throat was getting closer and closer to cutting - but the worst of it, was that it wasn't really his throat that would be cut but theirs: His family.

All he had to do was kill the escapees and it would all be over. That is what he'd been telling himself since he was _employed_ to perform this task. That is what he had been telling himself every waking moment since the infamous case file and photos of his family were sent to him as a warning. Kill them all and save his family. And save himself.

Ironically, it is exactly what he had told himself when he found himself in much similarly impossible manhunt. Shales. He had told himself that when he was found, his family would be safe. He had told himself that when he was found, he would be able to return to normal, he had told himself to many things, yet he wasn't with his wife and kid - he was stood, in the hospital room of a stranger, projecting his desperation for a quick ending to this situation into her recovery. If The Company were involved, the was important.

"So…" He shook his head to rid himself of the morbid thoughts and stepped towards the bed, the machines on each side flashing with positive indications of her survival "I guess, this might seem odd, me being here" He continued, taking small steps towards her bedside. "But you are going to help me find them" His fingers tapped the bed, beside her hand "Yes - I don't know why, but I have a feeling, you are going to help" He stared at his fingers remained just millimetres away from her hand, tapping gently on the linen. With each tap, his fingers moved a fraction closer, until his fingertips were touching her skin. It sent shivers down his spine to feel the warmth that came from her smooth skin and he smiled. She wasn't going to die, after all.

The silence was broken by the sound of his cell vibrating in his pocket.

"Yes" He answered sharply, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's Lang"

"I know - and it's 6 in the morning, what are you doing up?" His fingers moved from just the side of her thumb to trace the outline of her hand, his eyes now fixated on her peaceful face. He hadn't had a chance to really see the woman he'd read about in his one page report. There had been no photo and there had been no time for him to look at her properly when she was bleeding out just hours before. But now, there was plenty of time.

"Same thing you are, I guess - working" Lang laughed down the phone as she spoke, distracting him slightly from his thoughts

"What you got for me?" His voice remained quiet, afraid to destroy the calm that he began to feel in the room he currently occupied. Despite the tragic circumstances behind his arrival, he could honestly say that he had not felt such calm in a long time. Even the disjointed rhythm of the various machines that were littered at either side of the bed provided a gentle symphony that did not bother him.

"It's all set. The hearing is at three and your meeting is at noon" He sat back down

"Good"

"Still need me to cover for you?" She asked, phishing.

"No." He replied quickly, his hand now covering the young woman's entirely. "I'll - I'll be there soon"

He snapped shut the phone, and took a seat in the chair that was conveniently placed besides the bed, wondering whether she'd be angry to know she was being kept alive, against her will. His elbows were now digging into his thighs as he raked his hands through his hair. Something he felt anger at the fact he was still alive - but only because he felt that he wasn't really living, but why he was delving into such a philosophical state of thought was beyond him. He simply sat back, just watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, his mind void of thought and he was happy for it.

* * *

 _4 years ago_

Chicago at night was a sight to be seen. It mattered not whether it was a Friday night or a Tuesday evening, there was life in the city and it shined. Of course, December in Chicago was an even more spectacular sight, with fairy lights littering all of the shop windows, snow and sparkles littering the side walks as happiness was palpable in the air. Christmas brought everyone together and it was the most beautiful thing to see.

Nicole sat, legs crosses at a high table in one of the bars on Clark Street, pausing to look at the patrons of the establishment she currently occupied. It had been so long since she'd been in Chicago that she was excited just to watch the locals. She hadn't decided whether the direct exposure to Chicagos born and raised was bringing back good or bad memories, but the fact that she had already finished her third coconut daiquiri dulled the blow either way. She was just happy to be home.

Raising a hand to call over the waiter to order her fourth, she caught a glimpse of a familiar face coming in the door, wrapped in a scarf, winter hat and ear muffs.

"Michael!" She called, waving him over holding a finger to the waiter, asking him to wait a moment "What can I get you?"

"Mulled wine" He replied, shooting a smile to the waiter, who nodded and left the pair. Michael proceeded to remove his winter accessories, placing them on the table in an orderly fashion before embracing the young woman before her "It's so great to see you" Nicole fell into the embrace, ignoring the feeling of his cold skin on her own. It had been too long.

"And you. Wow. You look great Michael" She pulled out of his arms, and took a moment to look him over. "Success looks good on you"

"And you" He raised his hand to lace his fingers around a lock of her hair. Sure, she wasn't a structural engineer, but she had done well for herself in her own field.

Nicole Jones had been the lucky recipient of a Harvard University Scholarship, sponsored by the university's department of mathematics. After a successful stint at university she was offered a fully funded Doctorate straight out of university and three years later, she had completed her PhD in Applied Cryptography at Stanford. So, Officially, she was Dr. Nicole Jones, but she hated using it. People always assumed she had a medi-kit on her and it took so long to explain that she had decided to drop it on her official paperwork. To the world she was just Nicole jones, born in Chicago Ilinois. She was so happy to be back.

"I have missed you so much" Michael's voice seemed to get caught in his throat as he spoke, tears lacing his eyes. He smiled at her, which warmed her up to no end.

"Well, I'm here now" She spoke, rubbing his arms encouragingly "And so are our drinks!" The waiter, who looked similar to a penguin sat the two glasses down pushing them towards each of them. Nicole smiled at him, amused by the mental image of a flightless bird before her, which he obviously misinterpreted, as he winked at her before turning away. She laughed, and shook her head in disbelief. He certainly wasn't her type.

"Cheers" Michael said, lifting his steaming glass.

"Christmas Cheer!" She mirrored his action, tapping her daiquiri lightly against his mulled wine. "So, Hows linc?"She asked, after taking a sip of her favourite drink.

"How he always is" Michael answered, dismissively. Nicole didn't press. He knew Michaels stance on the matter.

"And Veronica?" She asked, trying to gather as much information about those from her past. Of course, she'd make an effort to see them all soon enough. She had missed them all so much.

"Getting Married" Michael raised a knowing eyebrow as he looked at her, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes baring straight into her own.

"To who?" Nicole asked, shocked, her eyes widening at the thought. Veronica Donovan - married - and not to Lincoln!

"To some guy, Sebastian I think his name is." He shrugged, sitting back in the high chair he had occupied opposite her.

"Wow." She whispered. "I always thought -" If there was anything that she would have bet on as a kid, it was that Lincoln and Veronica were a match made in heaven that would last for all eternity. But then, she had gone away to college, Lincoln had a kid, and it all sort of fell to pieces. Lincolns not so squeaky clean criminal record could be blamed for the most part - but it was still so sad to know that Veronica had literally hit one nail out with another and getting married to some other human. On some levels, it was unfair, Nicole thought.

"And LJ?" She spoke, more lively, trying to push the subject of Lincolns lost love life out of her head

"Good. Straight A student" Michael replied, beaming with pride. Michael had never stricken her as having a paternal edge to his unique personality, but whenever he spoke of LJ (and he spoke of him a lot), Nicole could almost taste the love and admiration he had for the young boy.

"My influence, of course" She winked, taking a sip, as proud of LJ and Michael. He had a brain in his head, and she hoped to god he'd continue to use it.

"Certainly not from his father" Michael's comment was a cheap shot that sucked all of the previously accumulated joy out of the conversation.

"Give him a break Michael" She rolled her eyes at him. She opened her mouth to berate him further, but was interrupted by the sound of her cell. "Speak of the devil?"

"Nikki?"

"Hey you, how are you?" She heard him sign, relaxing at the sound of her voice. Michael, on the other hand looked visibly more tense than he had a moment ago, much like a kid does when they are on the verge of being caught out. Nikki raised an eyebrow at him, but put it down to the fact that Lincoln was not his favourite person, and not because he had done anything wrong.

"I'm good." There was a long pause "And you?"

"Spiffing." She replied, in a chipper tone, playing with the straw that was floating in her drink, her eyes still fixated on the man before her "I was actually just wondering whether you were up for getting food tomorrow night? I am keen to re-familiarise myself with the Chicago Cuisine"

"What?" His question had not been what she expected, catching her off guard. She pulled there straw out of the drink and placed it on the table.

"Oh, I mean - " She shifted in her seat, feeling like she'd overstepped some boundary of some sort "If you want we could just get Chinese take-out if you wanted, watch a rubbish film. Or or- nothing. No pressure. I just wanted to see you" She rushed through her words.

"You're in Chicago?"

"Yes" She laughed "Moved in yesterday, didn't Michael tell you?" She looked up to see Michael staring blankly at the straw she'd placed on the table. _He didn't tell him_.

"It must have, umm, slipped his mind" Lincolns voice was just as stoic as it always was. Out of all of them, he was the best when it came to hiding emotions. Michael was second in that race - but Nikki - she wore her heart on her sleeve, and had fire on her tongue.

"Yeah. It must have" She replied, unconvinced. Michael never forgot anything. Ever. "But yeah. I'm back. You feel like meeting up tomorrow then?" She looked away from Michael now, feeling the anger begin to surge from within, and she didn't want Lincoln to pay for that.

"Of course" He was smiling now. It filtered into his voice.

"Still living at - "

"You know it" He let out a small laugh.

"Then I'll come get you around 4, ok?" She slipped off the high chair, pulling at the black dress she'd donned for the occasion. And what an occasion it was.

"Perfect." He said

Nicole snapped the flip phone shut after saying her goodbyes, and dropped it into her open back. "You're an ass" She spat, grabbing her coat off the back of the chair "A real ass" she reiterated, reaching for her bag that was draped on the back of the chair.

"I didn't - I -" Michael jumped up from his chair and stood in front of her. He didn't want her to go.

"Am. An. Ass." She spoke, staccato, pocking his chest with each syllable "Just because you have this unbearable superiority complex, doesn't mean the rest of the world does, Michael" She scrabbled into her purse, pulling out some cash to pay for her drinks

"Nicole, I'm sorry. I just didn't want you to let him down" he held his hands up, creating some sort of barricade.

"What?" She was in shock. Her? - let Lincoln down? Never! "What the hell is that supposed to mean!?" Shock turned to anger.

"I didn't think you were really going to come back." He admitted "I mean, you said you were coming back so many times and…" He explained, dropping his arms down to allow his hands to lace nervously "Lincoln, well, he only just found out about Veronica and I didn't want to get his hopes up and you -"

She held her hand up, indicating she wanted him to stop talking, immediately. "You do not get to decide what people feel Michael. I have told you that before" She slung her purse over her shoulder and began to zip up the front of her coat.

"Im sorry" His apology was so sincere. And she knew that he never did anything to deliberately hurt or upset anyone - but he still had so much to learn. He was a 27 year old man - not a child, and sooner or later, he'd have to be held responsible for his actions.

"Yeah. I'm sure you are" She replied curtly, snaking around him and out of the bar, jumping into the first taxi that came to the entrance.

 _Welcome home._ She mused, looking out the back of the cab, catching Michaels eyes, looking out at her as she left him, once again.

* * *

 _Present Day_

Alex was lost in thought, sat, like he did many days, in his back garden, staring at the bird bowl with such intensity he was sure his stare would destroy the stone figure. But it didn't, it simply remained their, a constant reminder of the evil beneath, the very thing that ate him up inside, destroyed his life and drove him to the edge of sanity.

He was sat on a wooden chair as he spoke to Ives about setting up the border controls - he wasn't about to lose the lot of them completely. His assignment was clear and he would pull every string he was able to get his hands on to reign them in and end them. Before cutting the conversation short, Ives mentioned having found all of the information he'd requested. Amongst that, was hopefully something that would shed light on something that wasn't so clear. The agenda The Company had with Nicole Jones.

He had left about an hour after the phone call with Lang, relishing in the calm that resonated from the woman, giving him the boost he needed. It wasn't until he left, did he realise that he hadn't picked up his pen from his jacket he'd thrown on his bedroom floor just hours before, knowing. The calm Miss Jones had bestowed upon him would not last him the entire day - hence why he was back home, staring at the bird bowl, pocketing his phone and checking his pocket, just to be sure. He was probably going to need it.

And he was right.

Mahone had made two visits to the Burrows boy. The conclusion of the first, was that LJ Burrows was a smart ass, just like he suspected his father was. He'd asked him to appear on TV and help him bring his father and uncle in to custody, but he'd refused. Curiously enough, he had accused Mahone of forming part of the conspiracy against his father - a fact that almost amused Alex, for it was actually true. He was part of this crazy conspiracy now. But amusement had no place in the current conversation. He needed LJ burrows to forget about being the saviour and start looking out for himself. He was 16 years old. He shouldn't have to waste his life away behind bars because of a government conspiracy that wanted his father dead - no. LJ should live his life as was intended, and probably how his father intended. Out of danger. Alex couldn't help but drawn some roundabout comparison to himself. He had stepped away from his own son to keep him safe - Lincoln Burrows should man up and do the same.

But LJ Burrows didn't break.

Mahone had left the kid with all of the advice he could muster without screaming at him to give his father and uncle up. He left him to think it all through, and hoped that he would jump at the deal - for two hours later his hearing would decided whether he was tried as a minor or an adult, and Mahone knew the outcome already. Alex left the courthouse and decided that he needed to go away and do some thinking of his own.

In the following hour or so, he received two very interesting phone calls. The first, Nick Savrinn had been found shot in his home alongside his father, a man who was recently released from prison after a 15 year stint. Alex found all of this quite coincidental, but didn't give it too much thought. He had 8 escaped convicts to find, and the death of one lawyer wasn't going to help. At least thats what he thought. The second phone call came an hour later. It was Lang. She wanted to let him know that LJ burrows had received a phone call and that it had been recorded, like he'd asked.

Mahone didn't give her time to explain the nature of the phone call. He simply jumped in his car, went to the field office, picked up a copy and played it over and over again as he was driving back to talk to LJ once again.

"On the 3rd look up for Otis right?" He repeated every time he listened to Lincoln Burrows voice on the tape. Soon, he'd simply ask the boy and he'd get the answers he needed.

Unsurprisingly, LJ denied any knowledge as to what his father was referring to with the phrase. Mahone was growing more and more impatient with the impetulant child, threatening to make his life impossible. When he continued to obstruct the investigation, Mahone made the call to the prosecutor. He was going to request - no insist - that this hid was 'hung out to dry'. It was at this moment, that everything began to make sense.

LJ had bent down to tie his shoes - but it was just to bide time. Alex noticed that they were on the third floor and that the boy was now entering the right side elevator made by - "Otis" He whispered, pushing to stop the elevator, telling the guard that he'd do the honours. He had only to ponder for a few moments as to what the elaborate plan was supposed to be when he saw them, the two big fish, atop the elevator within which the boy and Mahone were stood, looking up in confusion.

"LJ, pass me his gun" Alex heard Lincoln say to the boy. But he was not looking at either Burrow, much more fixated on the fear in the eyes of the other brother. "Give me your hand" Lincoln continued to converse with the boy, but Alex just watched. Did they really think this was going to work? He mused, looking up at the two guns that were pointed at him.

Actually - now only one.

Lincoln had dropped the plastic fun, giving Mahone the opportunity to grab the kid by the waist, pulling him back down. Scofield threatened to shoot, but Alex knew the fear in his eyes. He didn't have it in him to kill a man, not like his brother, who was too busy trying to pull his kid up, out of Mahones grasp - and to no avail. He let go and closed the hatchet, leaving Mahone alone with the boy. He was a seconds away from taking his frustrations out on the kid but refrained from doing to - he was just an innocent pawn in the system.

"They're up there!" He screamed, stepping out of the elevator "Scofield and Burrows are in the building"

But they wouldn't be for long. Just 5 minutes later, he had been informed that a vehicle they had stolen was found abandoned. He drove straight to where the vehicle was abandoned, noticed the blood. He didn't care to know which brother was bleeding, he just wished that they would bleed out - saving him one individual to chase. But one thing was for sure; they either went to a hospital, or they die, and either way - he'd be waiting.

* * *

He just stood at the end of the bed. He wasn't sure why he was there, but he was. He didn't even make an attempt to talk to the receptionist this time, simply walking in the front door and taking the elevator to the third floor where Miss Jones remained in very much the same position she had been this morning. It was such a contrast to where he felt that he was.

Alex had being within feet of both Scofield and Burrows that afternoon, and they had escaped - again. The phone call he had received moments after the media flurry was one he had expected, but it had made the blow no duller. Kellerman was not entirely happy with how it was turning out - but Alex had been adamant that he should not underestimate his skills. 14 years in the bureau had given him a certain amount of intuition and he knew that they would slip up soon enough. He'd put eyes and ears on all hospitals and walk in clinics - if they even stepped close to a place that sold plasters, they would get them.

Kellerman had seemed to be almost reasonable and accepting of what Alex had to say. The tone of his voice was lighter, and Alex felt a little less on edge, talking to him. The relaxed state didn't last too long though, as the final thing Kellerman said put him right on edge.

" _Oh, and Mahone - Stay away from Nicole ok? She's not your concern"_

Had there been any reservations of the involvement of The Company with the young woman he'd saved almost 24 hours ago, they had been destroyed with those words. Yet, he had not heeded those words of warning, for he was stood, at the edge of her bed, with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, looking awkward as he tried to think of what to say to a woman that wouldn't respond.

"So, I -" he began wiping his face with his free hand "I got you these" He raised the flowers slightly, as if showing her to what he was referring "I saw them in the hospital gift shop and thought it might make the room more colourful" He explained, laying them on the table that was pushed up against the bed frame beside him. "I guess, I'll just leave them here"

He fumbled around with the bottom of his shirt jacket, biting his lip nervously as the events of the past 24 hours rushed through his mind.

"Stop stop stop" He muttered hitting himself lightly on the side of the head. He turned around, back to the patient, and pulled out the pen that resided in his pocket, unscrewing it and placing it quickly on his tongue. The pen disappeared straight afterwards, and he turned, smiling a weak smile at the woman as he did so, embarrassment dancing behind his eyes.

"I had them" he whispered, looking down at her "I was so close" his fingers curled into fists as he voiced his frustration. "He is smart - too smart" He released his fingers and stepped around the bed to take a seat, looking at Nicole with such intensity "But you know - " he continued "- that will be his downfall" He leant back in the chair, leaning back and pulling at his head in both directions to release the tension "That will be his downfall" He repeated, to himself, looking down at the floor, thinking about what his next move would be, until his eyes grew heavy and he could fight it no longer - succumbing to sleep.

* * *

Her eyelids felt like they were being weighed down as she tried to open them. While focusing most of her efforts on that act, the remaining brain cells worked hard to understand what the hell was going on. Had she not ended all of this? If that was the case, then why did she feel such restraint and feel - cold? This wasn't what she had expected to feel. Not one bit.

Finally, she was able to push open her eyes, fluttering as they tried to fight her conscious attempt to visualise her surroundings. From the look of the ceiling above her and what she could see in her peripheral vision, she realised that she was in a hospital. She'd seen enough of those in her time to know that. But what she did know, was the identity of the man that sat in the chair beside her bed. She knew they had never met before - she had a particularly brilliant memory for faces, so why was he asleep, beside her in the middle of the night?

She turned her head to look towards him, trying to assess him for some indication of who he was and what his reasoning for being there was - but she wasn't awake long enough to make much of a stab at the attempt. She simply felt her eye lids grow heavy once more and she had no energy to fight it. She would deal with the stranger in the morning, a sense of security coming over her as she took his vision from the eve of reality into the world of dreams.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thank-you to all the readers of this story. It means a lot to me to know that you are enjoying my crazy ideas :D**

 **Yuul x**

* * *

"Come on come on" Michael leant against the payphone defeated.

" _The number you are trying to reach is unavailable, please try again later_ "

"Damn it!" He slammed down the phone with such force, splitting the receiver in two. "Damn it" He whispered, dropping down to sit on his heels, completely overwhelmed with everything that was happening.

They should be over the boarder by now, not hiding behind an abandoned warehouse a few blocks away from the court house they had just barely escaped from. Lincoln had been shot, lead hopeless just a few feet from him while he tried to get a hold of the only person he could trust to help them.

"Where are you?" He whispered to himself in desperation, throwing his hat down on the floor in frustration. "This isn't how we planned it"

Nicole and he had spoken just a couple of weeks before the breakout. She'd come to see him, with that disapproving look on her face. He remembered the conversation like it was yesterday

 _"_ _You suddenly decide to follow in his footsteps then?" She'd spat, sitting down on the chair beside him, crossing her legs and lacing her fingers on top of her knee. She reminded him of a school teacher, ready to give a child detention, but she was too late in his case. He was in a much worse situation than detention._

 _"_ _Nice to see you too" He'd retorted, rather curtly. He didn't need her to berate him like a mother - he needed her to listen, to help, to be there for them when the time comes._

 _"_ _And, I heard you got married too?" She asked, disbelief and hurt slipping into her voice. "To a stripper?!" He watched as she became tense, her fingernails digging into her skin. He hated having lied to her - but this entire situation had literally taken over his life for the past three years that he had pushed everyone away, including the woman that sat before him._

 _"_ _You look good" He smiled at her. "Hows the job?" He tried to engage in light conversation, unable to approach the real reason he'd begged her to come and see him._

 _"_ _Stop it Michael" She dismissed him, placing her perfectly manicured hands on the table, leaning towards him "Cut the crap or I'm walking away"_

 _He was taken aback by her outburst, surprised that she was reacting in such a harsh manner. He had underestimated the impact his decisions had had on her. He had not foreseen this and he was unsure whether she would agree to come to his aid. Michael had seen this conversation go differently, but he didn't have much time to renegotiate it - he just had to ask._

 _"_ _I need your help" His eyes implored_

 _"_ _You need more than my help - you need a goddam psychiatrist after what you've done" She replied curtly, returning to her 'school teacher position'. "I can't believe it - I really can't" She looked away from him and over his shoulder to look at the other convicts in the visitation room "What drove you to this Michael? Throw everything away…" He watched as she took a deep breath and look back at him "Throw me away"_

 _It hurt to hear that she felt that way, but he had not abandoned her because he wanted to, but because he needed to. And it was about time that he came clean with the reason why. "Lincoln" was the only word he said, and it was enough._

 _"_ _What?" Her tone instantly changed, just like he knew it would._

" _I needed to save him"_

It hadn't taken much to get her to agree to aid in his mission, of course. She had a heart of gold, and he almost felt bad for having manipulated that fact. But the love she felt for both himself and Lincoln was the only thing that he could use to get her to join what she described as a _crazy escapade_.

He'd directed her to a USB stick, found within the gift he'd sent her for her birthday. She admitted that she hadn't even opened it, which was the least that he had expected. But, at least she hadn't thrown it away. On that was all of the information she needed to understand what was going on, what the plan was and what he needed her to do. She'd come back a week later and agreed to it all, and he couldn't have been more relieved. They needed her. _He_ needed her.

And he still did.

"Where are you!?" He muttered once more burying his face in his hands, frustration taking over his body.

"Michael?" He heard his brother say his name, albeit weakly, and he had to snap out of it. His priorities shifted once again and it was Lincoln that was the current focus. He knew he had more than enough plans intertwining around his mind to mitigate any unforeseen circumstances, but he wasn't bothered about just the plan - he was worried about her safety.

"You speak to her?" Lincoln asked his hands clasping around his wounded leg

"Yeah" Michael lied.

"She ok?" He asked, shifting his weight to sit up

"Yeah - you know Nicole, living the dream" He lied again, pushing himself up, donning his cap and making his way over to his brother.

"Glad one of us is" Lincoln shot his brother a small smile, but Michael couldn't bring himself to return it. He heard police cars in the distance and he knew their time was going to be up soon. There was only one other place he could think of the go. Nika's house wasn't that far.

"Come on" He set himself under his brothers arms and pulled him to a standing position "We gotta go" He sighed, his mind working at one hundred miles an hour, calculating all the possible avenues they could walk in the next 72 hours, hoping beyond all hope that all three of them would be alive at the end of it.

* * *

Alex was stood in his office, glancing aimlessly out of the window. It was a position that he could often be found in. He took these moments to hide within his mind, pulling all of the pieces of this enormous puzzle together in a way that best made sense. Sometimes it was hard, especially when his thoughts fell off the track onto other, less pertinent subjects.

He had woken up that morning, slumped in the hospital chair, a crick in the neck and aching bones from the godawful position he had slept in. But he had slept. It was something that he hadn't managed to do for months, yet last night he had slept the night through, waking only because the nurse in the morning nudged him gently out of his dreams.

The nurse, K Hernandez R.N. as her name badge read, was kind and had promised to call him if her status changed at all, a gesture he was truly grateful for. He was prepared to show her his ID as some sort of explanation for why he'd been there all night, outside of visiting hours - but she didn't ask. She'd looked at him with such affection and spoke with such a gentle tone, that he almost felt bad for breaking the rules - almost.

As he sorted his suit out, he had looked over towards the patient, noticing that her head was turned towards where he had sat, and not facing the ceiling as he had last remembered it. He didn't have much time to dwell on it, as his cell began to ring, distracting him from his thoughts. He'd apologised to the nurse, taking his leave, but before he could go, she promised him that she'd put the flowers he'd bought in water stating that they weren't going to survive long if they didn't get their needs met.

Back in his office, just a couple of hours later, he continued to stare out of the window, and he knew that he couldn't agree more with that statement. Take a being out of its natural habitat and force it to live without its natural needs, it would soon enough die. That was what his 8 convicts were facing now - and soon enough, they would slip up and reach out for those needs, and he'd be waiting to pick them off one by one.

"Sir, we've found something" His thoughts were interrupted by the revelation of mistake number one. The brothers had left a car abandoned with a back pack on the back seat that had sparked the interest of one particular homeless guy. He admitted that after breaking the window, he ran away because the car was being toed away.

Alex felt a sudden feeling of accomplishment. All he had to do was ring the car lot and they'd catch him. He picked up the phone and ended up speaking to some guy named Chuck, who confirmed that Scofield was already there, waiting to take the vehicle. Mahone immediately ordered his team to intercept, but he knew that it was going to be too late. Chuck had let him go and it didn't matter that Mahone screamed at his team, they were too far out to even stand a chance to catch him. Scofield was in the wind again. It In his frustration, he swiped a pile of papers onto the floor. It was the only thing that was stopping him grabbing the first human he could and pounding them to death. It was Shales all over again.

He didn't have much time to dwell. Mistake number two came straight away. Franklin had been stupid enough to call home. Lang didn't need to tell him twice. This would be the chance he needed to catch Benjamin Miles Franklin, who had managed to stay under the raider for the first 72 hours.

20 minutes later, he'd heard the conversation between Franklin and his wife, sent Lang to deal with Miles, ordered Wheeler to get the number plate from Scofield Grey Accord and trail it, and was stood in his office, closing the door behind him as he waited for his nerves to set themselves straight. He flipped the blinds and leant his hands against the door, resting his head on one of his hands, breathing in through his nose and out through the mouth, like his therapist had told him.

Even though he'd not been to see the shrink in months, there were still a few tricks Alex used on a daily basis. But he didn't need the shrink as a crutch anymore - that role had been picked up by the meds he dosed himself up on when he couldn't control his mind anymore. Like now. He twisted, his back now to the door, popping a pill and praying that this would all be over soon. He needed leads and results and if his team weren't able to provide them, they needn't return to work that day.

* * *

Paul waited until he was sure that he wouldn't be seen before slipping in to see her. His assignment had brought him there to check on Sara Tancredi, who had just been taken away but the local police officers to be official booked for her crimes. Once informing the president of his findings, he knew that he had enough time to slip into Lances' shoes - the alias he'd chosen to get close to Sara. In the meantime, he would take this chance to check up on his other, self-assigned charge. Nicole Jones.

"Well Nikki" He began, clicking the door behind him. "It seems you have already had a visitor" His words were laced with slight bitterness as he saw the vase filled with a beautiful bouquet of flowers, not unlike the ones that he had in his hand, from the hospital gift shop on the first floor.

He bit the inside of his lip, stepping strong towards the edge of the bed where the vase was, grabbing the flowers within and throwing them in the bin that was just beside the door, before proceeding to replace them with those he had brought. He took his time, unwrapping the plastic and paper from around the stems, placing each flower in the water with a delicate touch until all of them were placed perfectly, arranged in a way that best reflected their colour and size.

"There, much better" He encouraged "See how far a little bit of effort goes, hey Nikki" He smiled down at the young woman, who was still unconscious. He was glad for this fact - having to explain to her why he was there would have been difficult. He probably wouldn't have another opportunity to see her before she finally regained consciousness and became a real problem. So, he relished in her unresponsive state and took a seat next to her, dragging the chair right up to her bedside and grabbed her hand within his own.

"So, Miss Jones" He began, taking a deep breath "This is an interesting turn of events" He smiled at her, as if she were hanging on to his every word. He knew that, had she been responsive, she wouldn't have let him speak even one word. "The last time you had a razor in your hand, it wasn't _your_ skin you were slicing was it?" He laughed, subconsciously lifting his hand to the left side of his neck, where a thin, but visible scar still remained, years after the original wound.

Paul remembered the very moment she'd cut him as if it had just happened. She jumped him from behind and if he hadn't seen her reflection in the window he had been looking out of, she would have slit his neck entirely and he probably wouldn't be there right now.

"We've been through so much you and I" He squeezed her hands, burrowing his eyebrows as the memories of their various encounters flickered through his mind "And its such a shame that its taken us in this direction, but you really didn't give me much choice Nikki" He got up, dropping her limp hand on the bed "None of you have given me a choice"

Paul reached into his pocked and pulled out his cell. "I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon" And with this, he bid his farewell, and made to leave the room, but not before grabbing the bin with the flowers and placing it outside the door. He'd have to deal with the unwanted visitor sooner rather than later. It would be a shame for the valuable assets to fall victim to a rogue bullet or two if they didn't comply with simple orders.

The moment he stepped outside to hospital building, he checked his watch then began to dial his cell "You had better start listening Mahone" He muttered to himself, as he began to dial the agents number "This will be your last warning" He held it up to his ear and waited for the agent to pick up. He didn't and he simply listened to the phone ring out to voicemail. He hang up in frustration and pocketed his phone, pulling out his sun glasses. He'd just have to remind him who is really running the show later. For now, he had other issues to deal with. Sara Tancredi and, by proxy, Scofield.

"I'm coming to get you" He spoke, smile dancing on his lips as he made his way down the steps of the hospital and to his vehicle. "i'm coming to get you"

* * *

"Mistake number three"

Alex's heart skipped a beat. His prediction had been correct. They were all beginning to make mistakes, and he was beginning to pin point them on the board.

Sucre had been spotted in Defiance Ohio stealing a car. It was only a matter of time before someone fell into their grasp. He could almost taste it. He'd be crossing the mug shots off one by one sooner rather than later.

He sent the orders flying around the field office to all the members of his team. They all had things to do and he needed them to pull their fingers out and get him results ASAP. He, on the other hand, had his own leads to follow, which was the very reason that he was currently in the hospital elevator, hitting the third floor button.

The nurse he'd met that morning had kept her word and called him the moment her status had changed. About an hour ago, Nicole Jones had woken up, slightly disorientated, which was not surprising. Alex had suggested, with a forceful tone, that she be placed on watch. She had attempted to commit suicide less than 48 hours before, so his request was accepted without resistance. Of course, the real reason behind his request was more to do with the fact that he wanted first stab at the information that was in her pretty little head.

When the elevator hit the third floor, he was more than ready. He had all of the questions he wanted to ask perfectly placed in his mind for easy, quick access. He didn't expect that she'd give him that many problems. The page he'd been provided had given him enough information on the woman to ensure a by the book checklist of what he'd ask to check she wasn't going to lie about everything.

He stepped out of the elevator and made his way directly to the room at the end of the corridor, a guard sat looking at his phone on a seat outside the room.

"Agent Mahone, FBI" He flashed his badge to the man who jumped up as if he'd been electrocuted. "Any issues?" He asked, unamused at the guards previous lack of commitment

"No sir, she's be awfully quite" He spoke, back straight.

"Have you checked up on her?" Mahone asked, and the young mans blank expression was answer enough. "ok - I'll take it from here" He gestured the lad to make his way along the corridor, and preferably out of his sight. He complied, immediately, saluting him as he left.

"Sir, yes sir!"

Mahone cocked an eyebrow and shook his head is disbelief. It was hard to find hard working people these days. As he turned to enter the room, he caught the sight of something unexpected in his peripheral vision. A bunch of flowers, in a trash can just a few feet down the corridor. They looked strangely similar to those he had brought her this morning. Why would they be outside? Still looking at the flowers, he knocked on the door. "Miss Jones?" He twisted the door handle slowly and pushed the door, glancing over his shoulder as he did so, still wondering about those flowers.

He stepped into the room, but before he could shut the door, he felt a heavy object collide with the back of his head. He looked up, to see the bed was empty, which made him assume that the one responsible for his imminent splitting headache was the very woman he'd come to see. Before he had a chance to speak, he felt a pair of hands grab his neck, pulling his head back.

"Who are you?" He heard her whispered, pushing hard on his wind pipe. "Who are you!?"

He didn't answer, reaching up his hands to grab hers, pulling her over his shoulder and onto the ground. Her body hit the floor with a thud, and he was sure that he'd soon be disturbed by the hospital personelle. He turned quickly, kicking the door shut before he turned to pick her off the floor. He was too late. She was up and armed with the vase that had been on the table, filled with another bouquet of flowers. He was quick enough to push it out of her hand before it hit the side of his face, grabbing her hands and pushing her back with all his force into the wall behind her.

"I'm not here to hurt you" he breathed, pushing her arms above her head, looking her dead in the eyes. "So calm down!"

"Is everything alright, Agent Mahone?" He heard a voice say from outside the room. The crashing vase wasn't going to go unnoticed - obviously. Both individuals looked towards the door as it began to open. Mahone ran through the easiest ways to explain why it could be seen as if he was manhandling the patient. He didn't want to have it reported, or have to explain to anyone why he was there. He'd make a pretty good job of not having to explain himself so far. As the door made it half way, his eyes turned back to the woman, who was now looking at him with wide, curious eyes. - but it mattered not what plan he might have come up with, because the woman's brain before him worked quicker than his. She had a plan. And it certainly wasn't one he'd had come up with.

She kissed him.

His eyes widened as her lips met his. He was shocked. It had been so long since he had felt any physical contact that was associated with intimacy, Alex felt his cheeks burn with a blush. She felt her take his bottom between her teeth and the hairs on the back of his head stand right on edge. His grip on her hands loosened and her hands dropped slowly taking his head in her hands, deepening the kiss. His hands remained flat on the wall, either side of her. He shivered at her touch and he felt her lips twist into a smile.

"Oh, I'm sorry" The nurse turned quickly, in embarrassment "I heard the vase a-and - "

"Yes, that was my fault" Nicole spoke, breaking the kiss and placing her hands on his chest "I was just excited to see him - I knocked it off the table" She shrugged and looked utterly embarrassed, biting her lip and smiling. He, on the other hand was gobsmacked, dumbfounded and lost for words. All he could do was muster a smile which he flashed towards the nurse when he pushed himself back and took a step away from her. Nicole Jones was a good actor.

"Alright love." The nurse smiled at the pair. "I'll just go and get something to clean that up" And with a wink, she left.

Mahone, took yet another step back, feeling that he really should be walking away. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. "I- umm" He stuttered.

"Who the hell are you?" Her smile had disappeared and she was looking at him with those large blue eyes. He felt captivated. There was something about those eyes that were strangely familiar, but that was impossible. He would have certainly remembered having encountered someone like her in the past. Now that he was sure of.

"My name is Alexander Mahone." He responded, finally straightening himself out "I'm an FBI agent "

She didn't look convinced, but just as he was going to show her the badge, the nurse returned with a dustpan and brush and began making small talk with them. But neither of them took their eyes off each other, nor did they speak a word, they just psyched each other out, evaluating everything they could about one another.

Nicole Jones was a woman of average height. Alex determined that she was probably a little underweight for a woman of her height, but she wasn't weak. The pressure she'd put on her throat had not been enough to take him down, but it sure wasn't something turn ones nose up to. Her eyes were large and daring, and her features were subtly beautiful behind her hard, tense gaze. Her face was outlined perfectly by long, wavy auburn hair that reached far down her back. It looked like she really took care of her appearance, that was apart from the two cuts hidden below bandages that he was now fixated on. He would never in a million year have pictured this woman, who seemed so strong, to have been the one he pulled out of the bath after having caused those cuts to appear. What on earth had driven her to that?

"And you said you weren't family" The nurse nudged him slightly in the side, which caused him to break his intense gaze and laugh nervously. "Well, I'll leave you two alone" The nurse left quickly, a giddy look on her face, pulling the door closed behind her, leaving them alone once more.

Alex wasn't even sure what to say, still staring at the woman before him. But much like before, she took charge of the situation and stepped forward.

"And to what do I own the honour, Agent Mahone?" She asked, stepping towards the window that lined her room, and turning the blinds so that they were visible to those outside the room. Smart girl, taking precautions.

"I need to ask you some questions" He spoke in the most formal and professional tone he could muster, his lips still tingling after the unexpected contact.

"I'm sure you do" She laughed, tugging down at the sleeves of her hospital gown "Do you often stay the night with all the girls you want to question, Agent Mahone?" She asked, looking over her shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow.

He burrowed his brow, wondering how she know, but then it hit him. She must have seen him while he slept, he mused, suddenly realising that her tilted head had been something of note after all.

"Do you usually attack everyone that visits you?" He replied, in much the same tone. He watched as she turned to look at him, leaning against the window sill. She was keeping herself in sight of the nurses outside. She didn't trust him. Why?

"Only the ones I think are here to try and kill me" And there was his answer.

"I am not here to try and kill you" He assured her, his tone less than friendly "You did a pretty good job of that yourself" He pointed towards her arms with his glasses, unamused at her accusation.

"Not good enough, apparently" She crossed her arms across her body. Her tense eyes dulled to defeated. He watched her fingers crawl around her arms and saw the creases appear on her clothing as she embraced herself. He watched her with curious eyes. She was mercurial to say the least. "And I assume you are the one I have to thank for that?" The sarcasm dripped off her tongue and her eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down. Mercurial indeed.

"I'm not in the business of letting people die on my watch" He spoke, his eyes baring straight into hers. He hoped that she believed him, because he needed someone to and maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to believe it himself.

"Sure you're not" The sarcasm twisted into scepticism, which didn't bode well. "Can I see your badge?" She asked, holding her hand out towards him. He resisted the urge to bit back with a sarcastic comment about how this is how their conversation should have started, and simply complied. The quicker they could be done with this dance, they quicker he could get what he wanted.

"Here" He huffed, pulling his credentials out from his jacket pocket and stepping towards her placing it in her outstretched hand.

She pulled it tight to her, and stepped aside and around him, walking towards the window "You really FBI?" She enquired, turning towards him, looking at his Photo ID with analytical eyes.

"Yes" He answered, placing his hands on his hips, creasing the material beneath. Maybe they were getting somewhere with this dance after all.

"Good" Her eyes lit up, and she threw the badge back to him. He caught it with ease and pocketed it "So please can I ask you some - " He didn't have a chance to finish his question, before he felt her finger touch his lips. His body grew tense and she leant upon him, reaching around him to close the blinds. She pushed her body against his to return to her standing position, her face just inches from his.

"What are you doing?" He whispered, curious as to her plan. He checked her hand position and deduced she wasn't going to make an attempt to grab his gun.

"You're going to take me with you" She spoke, determination in her eyes.

"I don't think so Miss Jones." He could not have this extra burden on him. He had an investigation to run and he was already wasting precious time.

"Oh I do Agent Mahone" She was smiling now, with a knowing look tracing her entire body. "Because if you want answers to those questions, you're going to take me somewhere safe"

"Really?" He narrowed his eyes, his question drawing in curiosity "And why's that?"

"Because you're not the only one who wants to know what Michael's plan is" She revealed, and he could not contain his surprise. "And if you leave me here - " She continued "they'll kill me"


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: And here's another one - I have had this story bouncing around my head for the past 10 years... it was bound to bubble to the surface at some point :)**

 **A special thanks to Juneselene. Thank-you for being such a dedicated reader, not reading just one but two of my stories. I hope that would continue to enjoy them :D**

 **Tension up to mark 4 - To all my readers, thank-you and enjoy.**

 **Yuul x**

* * *

Nicole quickly dropped to her knees. Nicole crawled as fast as she could from her living room into her bedroom. The moment she got in, she kicked the door behind her shut, right in the face of the blond man that was following her. She shifted from her hands and knees into a sitting position, placing her feet against the wardrobe and her back against the door, essentially wedging herself between the two. She only hoped it would stop the door from opening and the intruder from getting in.

"Miss Jones, open this door!" She could feel herself budge at the impact. He was using his shoulder as a battering ram. Her legs took the brunt of the strain, and she wondered whether they would take it if he hit much harder. "Don't make me hurt you"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" She screamed, spreading her fingers out on her carpet. Nicole thought that if she increased the friction over a larger surface area she'd have more of a chance of keeping the door shut. But it wouldn't help her for long.

"Just tell me where it is and no-one gets hurt!" He continued to barge the door. She had played her part in the barricade so well until she felt her knees buckle, leaving a small gap between the frame and the door accessible when he barged once more.

"Ha!" She heard him say, placing both hands around the door and pushing with all his might. She tried to push back, but she wasn't that strong. Before she knew it, she was staring up at the blond man, looking straight down the barrel of a gun, weeping as she awaited the inevitable.

* * *

 _Two days earlier_

Alex couldn't help but feel a small sense of pride when Wheeler gave him the news about Scofield leaving a message on the pre-paid voicemail box they had been monitoring. His team was finally providing the key clues in this mystery that would help him solve it and get his own murderous tasks out of the way. It sounded just like the lead he needed as well. A mobile they could track and a real possibility of grabbing the brothers and crossing them off his hit list. This day was getting better and better.

That morning, he'd picked up an unlikely stray to accompany him on this adventure. He hadn't fought the idea of taking Nicole Jones out of the hospital as much as he probably should have, but the fact that her life was in danger changed things a little - that, and the fact that she allegedly had information about Scofield that he needed. Now. He hadn't exactly thought it through in its entirety of course, seeing as he had a lot of work to be getting on with and he couldn't exactly take her with him to the office - so the next best place was his home.

" _Make yourself at home, but stay inside"_ _he implored, placing a clean set of clothes out on the spare bed for her. They had been Pam's. "And please - " He added, grabbing hold of her arm to ensure she was looking in his eyes "Don't hurt yourself"_

Although she had promised, well actually, scouts honour had been her term of phrase, not to hurt herself, his mind kept floating off to the image of her in the bathtub. He'd given her a cellphone and told her to call if she had any problems. Despite this gesture, he kind of hoped she didn't call- in the next few hours, he'd be closing in on the brothers, and he needed his faculties in tact and 100% focused to do that, and Nicole Jones was already proving to be a distraction.

They hadn't spoken much on the journey away from the hospital, but as Alex currently sat next to Wheeler in the car, following Scofield and Burrows represented by the red light on the GPS moving along Route 38, he found himself envisaging her sat beside him, lacing her hands nervously in her lap, sinking in her seat every time they reached a stop sign and the way she pushed her hair out of her face, and tucked it behind her ear…

His cell rang, distracting him from his distraction.

"Talk to me" He answered the phone. One of his agents informed him that a patrolman thought he had Sucre pulled over in Pennsylvania. He instructed the agent to advise local dispatch to apprehend Sucre and take him into custody alive, not in a body bag. Of course, he had use this term of phrase on purpose - he didn't want anyone to suspect that he really _did_ want him in a body bag. He just didn't want Wheeler or the agent on the phone to think otherwise.

Sucre was almost in his grasp.

Wheeler noticed that the GPS showed that the brothers had stopped moving. Alex wondered who they were waiting for, and whether it had anything to do with the slightly ambiguous message Scofield had left on his voicemail earlier. He didn't have much of a chance to develop these thoughts as Wheeler began to have trouble navigating himself around the tractor that they had managed to get themselves caught behind. Alex had no such trouble.

His impatient nature meant that he immediately reached for the siren and shouted for his agent to make the sharp turns throughout the traffic - it was a code red - and he didn't care if the siren alerted the brothers. He needed to close the distance between them NOW!

What he hadn't expected was the fireball in the distance 30 seconds later. Wheeler put his foot down on the gas until they reached the bridge where he pulled up and jumped out of the car, cell to his ear calling the necessary people. Alex, followed suit, rushing to the side of the bridge, looking over at the fire pit below. He hadn't expected that, at all.

* * *

Late that evening he had arrived home, feeling terribly pensive and with the most intense headaches he'd had in a while. He was looking forward to standing under the scolding water in the shower and falling into bed, despite the fact he knew it would be anything but a sleep filled night. It had been one of the most straining, yet unproductive days he'd had in a long time and it just wanted it to be over.

His team had jumped to the very premature conclusion that Scofield and Burrows had been killed in crash and were too keen to announce it to the media. Alex, on the other hand, had implored that they run more tests. He needed to have infallible proof that they were dead before giving the other convicts any excuse to get smarter. He also didn't want to make the mistake of believing they were dead and The Company come down on him like a tonne of bricks. He didn't need to give them any more reason to pressure him.

The door closed behind him and proceeded to lock and bolt it, placing the chain across for safe measure. You could never be too sure. One he was happy that his door was suitably armed with security measures, he threw his keys into the bowl on the unit that lined one wall of the hallway, and pulled on his tie to loosen it and pull it over his head. Wrapping it around his hand, he kicked off his shoes and made his way into the living room, where he lay his tie on the back of one of the dining room chairs, upon which he then draped his jacket that he shook off his shoulders. He pulled his shirt out of his trousers, releasing the unnecessary tension and unclipped his holster, from his belt, chucking it onto the table along with his badge. He felt instantly lighter.

It was awfully quiet, he thought to himself. Alex looked around the living room with curious eyes. Nothing looked out of place at all. He doubled back into the hallway and leant upon the banister looking up to the second floor.

"Nicole?" He called out. She didn't reply. He listened out for any signs of movement, but the house was deathly quiet, like it had been every evening since his wife and kid left. _You mean forced out,_ he thought, sardonically. _You kicked them out. You made them leave._

Alex walked slowly up the stairs, knowing that on the landing he had another firearm were he to need it. He called out again, reaching the top of the stairs in no time, but there was no reply. Nothing. Had she left? He asked himself, checking all of the rooms upstairs. She was no-where to be seen. The clothes he had placed upon the bed in the spare bedroom remained untouched, and he began to doubt the veracity in her plea. Nicole had said she was in danger, and that in exchange to being discharged from the hospital and taken to a safe place, she would help in his investigation. But the moment he'd left the house, she'd probably left. He'd been taken for a fool.

Alex stood at the edge of the spare bed and huffed. He couldn't believe he'd trusted her, especially when there had been nothing to suggest that she was even a trustworthy individual. He'd let his guard down. He felt himself getting angry with his own stupidity and kicked the ottoman that was at the end of the bed. The fact he had no shoes on meant that his act was followed by a yelp of pain and frustration. How could he have been so stupid?

He violently tried to wipe the frustration from his face, turning on his heel and making his way downstairs. "I need a drink" he muttered to himself, deciding that it was best to nurse his bruised ego over alcohol. He entered the kitchen, ignoring the light switch as he began to unbutton his shirt, making his way directly to the fridge. And that's when he saw her.

Nicole was sat on the kitchen floor, her arms wrapped around her knees, head leant against the pane of the French doors that led out into the garden. It was such a curious sight. She was sat silently, looking longingly outside, not moving a muscle as he grew ever closer.

"Hey! Are you deaf?" The remnants of his frustration filtered into his words as he stepped towards her, re-buttoning his shirt. He didn't want to feel any more exposed than he already was. Her reaction to his question was curious. He saw her lips twist into a cheeky smile, similar to that of a child that had just been caught, which was answer enough. She'd simply decided not to answer him, which was just as annoying. "There are plenty of seats in the living room, you know" He added, flippantly, turning back towards the fridge. He opened it, allowing the beam of light to fill the kitchen for just a moment, before pulling out a bottle of beer and closing the door to the embarrassingly empty fridge.

"The chair was too heavy to drag" She finally turned to look at him, the light of the full moon reflecting off her blue eyes. She held her arms out in front of her, exposing the bandages that were wrapped around them. It probably hurt too much to move anything, he thought, opening the bottle and taking a tip. But why did she want to drag it to the kitchen anyway?

Alex began to feel his frustration ebbing into the abyss, partly due to the bubbled alcoholic beverage that was now trickling into his stomach and partly due to the most recent revelation. She hadn't left after all. He'd jumped to conclusions and for once, he had been wrong. He watched her hands caress her bandages until reaching her elbows, crossing her arms over her chest, looking back outside. She hadn't left.

"But that doesn't explain why you are sat on the floor of my kitchen?" He questioned, standing over her now, looking out over the garden. There was very little to see from where he stood, and for that he was grateful. His secrets were well buried in his garden, even if they were not in his mind.

"I just wanted to see the stars" He hadn't expected that to be her answer. He looked down at her and saw that she was now looking right up at him. "You asked me not to go outside, so - happy compromise" She pat the floor with her fingertips and all Alex could do was smile down at her, lost in her gaze once more.

Nicole Jones was not as he expected. He found her quite hard to read, if he was honest with himself. Her eyes spoke psalms of pain and fear, which accompanied by her defensive body language and sharp tongue, lead him to believe that she had not lived the most nurturing of lives. Much like him. But then there was that smile, the very smile that was beaming up at him now, that showed her heart was open and sincere. It was unusual for someone that had felt pain to be so open. He was confused, but then again, he was tired. He was probably reading her all wrong.

"Will you help me up?" She asked, outstretching her hands towards him "Currently losing feeling in my ass" She laughed, as did he, breaking his analysis of her, which was probably for the best. He didn't want to overstep his professional boundaries. She was a person of interest in an investigation, not a puzzle for him to solve. Yes. That's what he was going to tell himself.

He placed the bottle on the countertop and took hold of her hands. He lightly pulled her up, wary of her wounds.

"Thanks" She whispered, the moment she was on her feet. "For everything" she added, biting her bottom lip. Alex watched as she this, unable to place a finger on exactly why she did it. It was a text book sign of nervously, but she did not seem nervous at all.

"You're welcome" He breathed, unable to think anymore. "Umm - Would you like a drink?" He asked, pulling his hands delicately out of hers, realising how ironic the question was. He'd just established that their relationship was supposed to be investigator/investigatee and then he goes and offers her a drink? He decided to ignore his subconscious for now. He was too tired and his faculties were not available for rational thought.

"I probably shouldn't" She laughed as if there was an inside joke that he wasn't privy to, which caused his face to succumb to confusion. He was feeling this a lot lately. "I think I'll have a shower and go to bed"

"Alright"

She didn't move straight away, keeping him in the realm of confusion that had spawned the very moment he'd set eyes on her. He was glad for this, because there was little sound in this realm. It was quite, calm and somewhat comforting, but he knew that it wouldn't last forever.

"Good night, Alex" She finally spoke, breaking the comfortable silence, turning away from him.

"Good night, Nicole" He replied, watching her leave the kitchen then hearing her footsteps go up the stairs. "Wow" he whispered to himself, reaching out to pick up the bottle of beer, taking a sip while glancing outside at the stars.

* * *

Nicole woke up that morning feeling quite refreshed. Despite everything that had happened over the past couple of weeks, she had managed to push it into the deepest depths of her subconscious and slept like a baby. She turned to look at the digital clock that was conveniently set up on the bedside table and was surprised that it read 6:00. She'd never been an early riser, to the fact that she was pushing herself out of bed, donning the t-shirt and trousers that Alex had provided with no ounce of sleep within her was something new. Like this entire situation.

She opened the bedroom door slowly, listening to any signs that Alex may be awake. She could hear nothing. She stepped out onto the landing and looked out of the window next to the staircase. His car was still there. He was probably still asleep.

On tiptoe, she made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she searched the cupboards for coffee. The cupboards were bare of any food, just plates with matching bowls, some mugs, tumblers and wine glasses, and the coveted pot of ground coffee she pulled out. She proceeded to fill the percolator with water, adding two scoops of coffee and waited for the coffee to brew.

Five minutes later, she was stood, coffee cup in hand, in the small office downstairs into the basement. She'd figured that she should get acquainted with the house while Alex was asleep. To her surprise, the wall of the basement was covered with a replica of things she'd seen before. She perched on the desk, taking a sip of her coffee as she looked over the various plans and pictures Michael had once had pinned to his own wall.

She remembered showing up one day at his apartment unannounced and Michael practically pushed her out, shouting at her to never just turn up again. Had she known then what she knew now…

"You should change those you know" She had been so engrossed in the imagery, that she had not heard Alex come down the stairs. "The bandages, I mean" he added

"Yeah, I guess" She shrugged, not too bothered about them.

"Antiseptic cream wouldn't hurt either" He continued, causing her raise an eyebrow. She didn't make a comment, still engrossed in the imaged. She heard him shift from one foot to another, and she was sure the real burning question was about to come. And it did.

"How well did you know Scofield?" He asked

She turned her head to look at him, noting that he too was sporting a mug with coffee. "Thats a complex question" She answered, taking another tip of the liquid gold, warming her insides. She did love coffee.

"Thats not an answer" He stepped down the final step, and leaned against the doorless frame. He didn't seem to be annoyed that she had been snooping around him house or that she had stepped into the results of an on-going FBI investigation, which was something bewildered her. Had it been the other way round, she was sure she'd have been more than angry. _Just like Michael_. She sighed as she thought about how everything had turned out, and decided to answer Alex's question.

"Not as well as I thought" She spoke with such sincerity, she could see Alex was taken aback "This-" She pointed to the collage "This certainly isn't the Michael Scofield I knew"

She saw Alex open his mouth to continue his morning interrogation, but his cellphone rang.

"Yes" He answered, their eyes still locked. She smiled as he listened to the voice on the other end of the phone with only half his attention, the other half still actively analysing her. It was quite uncanny to see another man do this to her - The only other one she'd known to do that was the very man they had been talking about. Alex was quite similar to Michael, and it scared her a little.

"I'll be right there" He finished the conversation, snapping the phone shut with a loud click. "You going to be ok?" He asked

"Thats a complex question" She mimicked her previous answer, raising an eyebrow at him.

He smiled at her, taking a sip of his coffee before making his way up the stairs "And that's not an answer" She heard him say from the landing, causing her to smile.

* * *

The office was bustling with agents working on the manhunt. Alex was happy to see this as he walked into the field office. He needed everyone to focus 100% on this, especially when part of his brain was playing hooky.

"We've got something" Alex jumped at the chance to get his hands on another lead, and this time, it would be the start of something beautiful.

Local police had dragged the river near Scofield residence and found a hard drive with a serial number was one that corresponded with one Scofield had purchased. It was definitely his and he'd tried to get rid of it. This meant that what ever was on the disk would probably lead the FBI agent right to him.

Alex requested that all the files that were currently obtainable be printed and given to him immediately. He back into the open plan office to see Lang sat, looking through a load of files, scouring the information for anything that could be useful.

"Lang" He addressed her, walking towards her with long strides "The information you pulled from the visiting logs at Fox River, you highlighted three names. Veronica Donovan, Nika Volek and Nicole Jones"

"Yes sir, the only three people that came to visit Scofield."

"I need you to get me everything you can on all three" He ordered. "If they so much as looked at another person in the past three years, I want to know about it" He turned his back to her to walk back to the intel guy who he could see was holding the print outs he'd requested.

"But sir - " She tried to protest, but

"Yesterday, Lang" He shouted, leaning into the surveillance room, grabbing the pieces of paper from the guys hand without a word. He needed to find out everything he could about the woman he was harbouring in his home, and this was the easiest and more efficient way of doing so, and it ensured that no-one could connect any unwanted dots.

Nicole had agreed to discharge herself from the hospital. Despite the protocols that came with suicide victims, the nurse had surprisingly agreed to turn a blind eye, stating " _i'm happy because she'll have you to look over her"_ Even though there was no paperwork that had his name on it, he just wanted to make sure that everything seemed to be by the book, and asking Lang to do the digging might just mitigate that. Who knows, maybe he'd find out why she was in danger - or find some information that would help him get her to reveal Michaels plan. Either way, it was more effective than asking her. This way, he'd know the facts.

Alex pushed that task aside, and looked down at the print outs, realising he held three very notable pieces of information in his hand. Three articles. One about Sara Tancredi. A second about DB Cooper and a third about Abruzzi, with one name circled.

"Fibonnaci" He whispered, pinning it to the board underneath Abruzzis photo.

"Wheeler!" Alex shouted, causing the blond agent to jump a mile. He hadn't realised he was next to him "Put this out on the wire" He pointed at the name that was circled "Pull in what ever favour you need to, make any deal you can, just find me someone in Abruzzis network that can place Fibonnaci in a location of your choice"

"Honey Trap sir?" Wheeler asked, a proud smile on his face.

"Honey trap - now go." He pat Wheeler on the back, happy to have such a competent agent by his side. He watched as Wheeler grabbed the phone on his desk and began to set the trap up, giving Alex enough time to look over the articles ones more, realising to how much detail Michael Scofield had really put into this whole thing, and it was all on the hard drive his guys were repairing. Whether or not they'd retrieve any more data remained to be seen, but one this was for sure. He was going to get Abruzzi today.

* * *

The sofa Nicole found herself sat upon was not as comfortable as it looked. It felt like it had been over used, despite its pristine appearance. It was something that she had noticed about most of the house. Everything was perfect, like no-one lived there at any point. Even the towels in the bath room were folded to such perfection it looked like they had never been touched. Yet, there was something about the house that looked like it had been lived in for years and years, by more than just a bachelor.

Nicole had taken the opportunity to continue to snoop around the pristine house the moment Alex had left that morning. With her new found energy, she wanted to know who the man that had saved her life really was. Her first assessment was that he was a neat-freak, much like her. Even his shoes were perfectly polished in the base of his built-in wardrobe. He was probably a military man, she thought, as she noticed the perfectly kept laces woven in the various pairs of similar black shoes, reminding her of how well kept her fathers shoes had been.

 _"_ _Your feet take you everywhere. You have to treat them with respect, and there is no greater respect than perfection!"_ He used to say. She smiled at the memory, before continuing her own investigation.

Her second assessment was that he was probably divorced or, at least, separated. This came from the fact that the wardrobe was only half full, the clothes she was now wearing certainly didn't belong to Alex, and there was a picture of a small boy on the bedside table in the master bedroom. Sure, it might not be his son, maybe a nephew, or it was his son and just born out of wed-lock, but Alex didn't seem that type of guy. He seemed like a guy who would want to do things right. Marry a woman he loved then bring a beautiful child into the world and into a loving home, or at least thats what her senses were saying.

Her third assessment was that he was probably hardly ever at home. The fridge was perfectly clean and almost empty. All that could be found within it was 5 bottles of beer and a pint of milk. She raised her eyes at her fourth assessment. Alex Mahone seemed to live on a liquid diet. She'd already noticed the cupboards were bare. Except the office in the basement, there really was nothing noteworthy. Alexander Mahone was quite a mystery.

After an unsuccessful snooping session, she'd decided that if she was going to act in accordance with Alex's two rules of " _Don't leave_ " and " _Don't hurt yourself_ ", she'd have to distract herself with something. Thus, the TV became her companion, and lucky too - they were covering the Fox River 8 story, and she was interested in their latest coverage.

According to reports, there had been no sign of any of them since their escape. The began running a summary background report on each of the escapees before showing a recording of the FBI press conference that had taken place just hours after the escape. Nicoles eyes widened as she recognised the agent in charge of the investigation. Just as he was about to speak, she heard the sound of a cell phone ring. It took a moment before she realised it was the one Alex had provided her the day before. She jumped from the sofa and walked over to the hallway where she'd left it and pressed to accept the call as she walked back into the living room.

"Hey" She answered, grabbing the remote and muting the TV, images of the very man she was talking to still upon the screen

"Hey" He replied quietly "How you holding up?"

"Good" She replied simply. There really wasn't much more she wanted to add to that statement. She was breathing, which was more than she had expected. She contemplated telling him that she knew who he was, but she chose against it. That mornings mini interrogation had shown her that his interest in keeping her safe was to obtain information about Michael. The less he knew she knew the better. "You?" She asked, opting for the safer option. She pulled her feet up, making herself as comfortable as she could on the sofa. She missed lounging around in her own apartment, on her own comfortable sofa, in her own clothes…

"I have to fly out to Washington" He spoke, obviously avoiding her question regarding his well-being, bring her straight back to the present.

"Alright" She replied, that one word laced with a question. Why was he going to Washington?

"I'll be back tonight though" He wasn't gong to elaborate, that much was obvious.

"Alright" She repeated, in much the same questioning tone.

There was a long pause. Nicole took the opportunity to grab the remote and put the subtitles on the screen. She read as he drew a comparison between John Wilkes Booth and the escaped convicts. He spoke about the journal Booth had written in the 12 days he was on the run.

"Ummm - " She had almost forgotten she was on the phone to him, jumping slightly at the sound of his voice breaking the silence "my card is in the kitchen draw. Get food it you'd like" She knew that to be true, as she'd already looked in the kitchen draws. She'd also found a loaded gun, a Fixation Bowie combat knife and his passport. She wondered how he was going to fly without it, but simply concluded that it was work related. He probably didn't need it if he was flying with the FBI.

"Geez, thanks" She laughed at his kind gesture, her eyes now fixated on the sight of Michael and Lincoln mug shots on the screen. At least if Mahone was going to Washington, it would have nothing to do with them - Michaels plan did not include a trip to the capital.

"Wouldn't want you to starve" She could hear his smile in his words now, which surprisingly made her feel much better. "See you tonight?"

"I'll be here" She assured him before he hung up without another word bringing her straight to her fifth assessment. Alex Mahone did not do well with talking.

She turned the sound back on to hear Mahones concluding that the fundamental mind of the escape man had not changed since Booth had been caught, and that this would help him catch them, along with the use of the media. Nicole felt her lungs constrict as he asked everyone in the country to take a look at the mug shots, deeming them the most wanted men in America, imploring that they come forward with any information they had.

"Where are you Michael?" She whispered, feeling despair at the fact that she certainly wasn't the only one asking themselves that question.

* * *

The hours past and the nerves from her own paranoid state had become something that was too much for her to bare. The television was proving to be a fickle friend as it constantly reminded her of their plight. Michael and Lincoln were on the run and she had no idea what she could do to help them. She sat, biting the material at the end of the sleeves rocking back and forth the uncomfortable sofa she'd been sat on for hours. She needed to do something. And she needed to do it now.

In one of the draws in the kitchen, she'd seen a business card for a taxi service. She dialled the number, pre-paid using Alex's credit card and found herself around the corner from her apartment just twenty minutes later.

"Can you wait here to take me back?" She asked the driver, who nodded. She thanked him before exiting the vehicle and walking around the corner to her apartment block.

She didn't know what she was going to find, but the USB stick Michael had given her was still hidden inside the present he'd sent her for her birthday. Maybe there was something on it that would tell her how to contact him at least.

Taking the spare key from underneath the flower pot beside her front door, she entered her apartment quickly. She really hoped that she could go in, get the thumb drive and be back at Alex's apartment before his flight landed and she had to explain why she'd gone home. He was searching for them too - and if he ever found out the extend of what she knew...

She rushed along the corridor and into the living room where she stood dead still in shock. The place had been trashed.

"Oh no" she whispered to herself, realising that _they_ were probably behind this. Her suspicions were confirmed just seconds later when she heard the sound of her door open behind her and unwanted footsteps make their way down the corridor.

"It wasn't smart of you to come back, Miss Jones" She heard a voice say.

Nicole quickly dropped to her knees. Nicole crawled as fast as she could from her living room into her bedroom. The moment she got in, she kicked the door behind her shut, right in the face of the blond man that was following her. She shifted from her hands and knees into a sitting position, placing her feet against the wardrobe and her back against the door, essentially wedging herself between the two. She only hoped it would stop the door from opening and the intruder from getting in.

"Miss Jones, open this door!" She could feel herself budge at the impact. He was using his shoulder as a battering ram. Her legs took the brunt of the strain, and she wondered whether they would take it if he hit much harder. "Don't make me hurt you"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" She screamed, spreading her fingers out on her carpet. Nicole thought that if she increased the friction over a larger surface area she'd have more of a chance of keeping the door shut. But it wouldn't help her for long.

"Just tell me where it is and no-one gets hurt!" He continued to barge the door. She had played her part in the barricade so well until she felt her knees buckle, leaving a small gap between the frame and the door accessible when he barged once more.

"Ha!" She heard him say, placing both hands around the door and pushing with all his might. She tried to push back, but she wasn't that strong. Before she knew it, she was staring up at the blond man, looking straight down the barrel of a gun, weeping as she awaited the inevitable.


End file.
